


Simulation Theory // Detroit Become Human

by Tinysnekinahat



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Bisexuality, Dark, Detectives, Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Elijah Kamski & Gavin Reed are Cousins, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hank Anderson Swears, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Themes, Lots of original content, M/M, Mystery, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pacifist Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Politics, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Post-Battle for Detroit (Detroit: Become Human), Pre-Battle for Detroit, RK900 - Freeform, Slow Burn, Soft Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26595340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinysnekinahat/pseuds/Tinysnekinahat
Summary: Sera Page, a disaffected ex-cyberlife employee, has her monotonous life disrupted after an eventful day at work. Starting to question her own reality, Sera quickly falls down the rabbit-hole that is her past with the help of two detectives, who only further challenge everything she knows in ways she couldn't have predicted.(Slow burn)
Relationships: Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Original Female Character(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

Rain fell from a boundless black ceiling. The drops splattered silently, on a floor equally dark and seemingly endless. Sera could tell she was in a dream just from how deeply perturbing the silence was. It was so quiet- even the rain made no noise. 

As the concentration of rainfall increased, grid-like grooves appeared on the floor in which the water started a pool and run in all directions. It would mix and swirl before eventually stilling. Sera could feel the water at every point it hit her. Each small, cold droplet was impactful against her, but she could not see herself. Droplets covered her, she knew this, but her body was in a state she couldn’t quite actualise. There was no defined feeling of her shape; she was only sure of her presence within this space, only sure that she existed. This dream was like nothing she had dreamt before, and its unfamiliarity caused unease. 

The rain stopped, the atmosphere changed. An icy, irking sensation crept into her, colder than the rain. It entered her undefined being and made itself at home. It was a sensation so intrusive and unwelcome it made her shudder and feel sick. The sickness grew when a figure appeared within her line of sight. 

A woman, short, stiff in posture, stood at least a few hundred metres away. Sera immediately noticed her face wasn’t right. It was an undefined formless mess, motionless. Sera could only see definition in her clothes, an all-white coat pulled loosely around her body. The stranger did nothing for a moment, making Sera’s heart quicken. She wanted to leave, but couldn’t. It was like the cold sensation had immobilised her, made her feel limbless. She couldn’t speak a word, and when she tried, the noises were just as formless as her physical self. 

The woman, the thing more accurately, started to step forward slowly. Her face didn’t change in clarity as she got closer. The cold sensation was getting worse. Sera wanted to make herself small, to shrink away into nothing to avoid this person -and this feeling- at any cost. But she felt nothing of herself, not enough to know how to move anyway. The woman was only centimetres away now; her grotesque features only becoming more muddled. They started to move incoherently in sharp shapes, splintering outward like shattered glass. Sera could feel panic rush through her, the adrenaline like hotwire igniting in her muscles.   
“Hello”, a muffled, glitched voice came from the formless face. Sera flinched. The sound resembled white noise, full of loud cracks and buzzing. “You can trust me,” it said when it saw her discomfort. Initially, her voice sounded like it intended to be soothing, but there was sinisterness under the static. A lie was hidden beneath those words. The woman reached out a hand towards Sera’s face. She could feel her skin blister at her closeness. Before her fingers could make contact, Sera closed her eyes shut, wishing with all her will to get away. 

It worked. At that moment, the woman disappeared, and the boundless black room faded.

Sera awoke to the loud beeping of her morning alarm. Her bedroom was still dim, relief flooding her when she could hear real rain pattering lightly against the windows. Her head was splitting with a headache, the pain originating deep in the back of her head. With a deep sigh, she composed herself, conscious of how the cold she felt gradually faded. That wasn’t normal, she thought. Dreams weren’t often visceral for Sera; she was always self-aware enough to recognise when she was having one, and they were only ever surface level. This was different. It felt like it was trying to pull her back into unconsciousness, back into formlessness. The thought of it did not steady her heartbeat as it continued to race within her chest. 

Reaching over to her phone, she stopped the holographic alarm emitting the time and picked up her phone. As she did, the automated curtains of her bedroom window opened, revealing the city below. It was a gloomy day; grey clouds blocked the sun from reaching the scarred concrete of the city sidewalks and black glass cocooning the high-rises. The rain made Detroit seem more melancholy and crowded than usual. It was easy to view from here, within the comforts of a clean, upper-middle-class apartment. She was sure it wasn’t the same for those within the deteriorating sections of the city. 

“Charming Detroit” Sera uttered, sitting up in her bed. She brushed her overly long fringe out of her eyes to view the screen of her phone in its entirety. No notifications appeared on the screen. She didn’t know how she felt about that and got up to shower. The prickly sensations still ran up and down her body in the hot water, and her headache was still sharp. The slow recovery was starting to concern her. The muddled, horrible face of the woman kept coming back to her but only in a haze. When she tried to picture the dream now, it only came in fragments, like unloaded textures. Everything else was a blur. It almost pained her not being able to visualise it, so she decided to let it go. 

After thoroughly washing her hair and application of light makeup, Sera dressed in her work attire. She always liked it, a dark blue suit with a well fitted asymmetric button-up jacket. The collar was tight around her throat, adding some severity to her look. Using a full-length mirror in the bedroom, she made sure everything was straight and clear of fibres. She could hear her mother’s voice now as she patted the clothes down. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

If Katherine Page were here now, no one would mistake her relation to Sera despite their obvious physical differences. Katherine was a tall, blonde, slender woman, while Sera was shorter and softer. Katherine was all angles and hard edges like she was engineered by someone who had a fondness for geometry. Sera could see her now; strong jaw wired tightly shut, but an approving green gaze shooting over golden glasses perched upon a jutted nose bridge. 

But would she approve? Sera second-guessed the apparition. She was always a watered-down image of the severe woman. While smaller, the features that truly separated them were Sera’s darker features and smaller nose. Her father’s Japanese heritage had tamed Katherine’s sharpness, but the reflection was still there. 

Sera shook the thought away. The image of her mother immediately soured the day, and she knew it was only going to get worse from there. Greta, her supervisor, had contacted her the night before. From a single heated message, Sera knew today was going to be difficult. She left the apartment in a hurry to catch the bus to her workplace, Urban Farms of Detroit.   
__ 

Saturday, November 5th

Sera followed her schedule, as usual, catching the bus from the station at the corner of her street at eight o’clock. She reached the farming district of Detroit city by eight twenty. Despite the traffic, she logged in at administration and reached her office by eight-thirty to complete specific paperwork before Greta stuck her claws into her for the day. Overall, office space for a rooftop hydroponics farming project was challenging to come by, as the buildings below usually contained civilians or businesses. Here, however, Sera had a reasonably necessary job requiring workspace - Android management and maintenance. Sera always thought that job title was a little broad considering what she managed in actuality, but she suspected it might be because a lot of other ‘smaller’ responsibilities were often passed to her. 

Sera got to the unassuming white office door that emitted the words “Android Management” in blue light and swiped her ID card over the identification pad. The door silently slid aside, and Sera went straight to a neatly organised desk tucked into the back corner of the room. Space within the office was mostly dedicated to a diagnostics station for android physical maintenance and programming. Using it, Sera could manage things like scheduling of the unit's responsibilities and do general upkeep. At the end of every month, every android in her division had to be checked and passed for further use within the facility. It was the most consistent position within the company, which made her feel very secure, considering the current job market. That didn’t mean she was entirely comfortable with it, however. It was just familiar. 

While sitting at her desk, Sera immediately got to work. Approvals for new android units had to be put through, but she had but only written one signature before there was a quick knock at her door. Great, she thought. It was definitely Greta, the knock followed by her distinctive voice. 

“Sera? I saw you clocked in early. We need to talk” the older woman said. Sera swore she almost broke the tip off the pen in her hand. She clocked in at this time every morning, believing no one would disturb her too quickly. Suppressing annoyance, she got up to answer the door. 

Greta was standing against the adjacent wall; arms crossed over her chest. There was always something about Greta’s appearance or posture that screamed over-assertion, like a small animal standing on its hind legs in an attempt to intimidate her. She was overdressed and always sported a stern expression. Her greying hair was stiff with hairspray, reflecting her posture. Sera knew Greta never really warmed to her, but she accepted it because no else had run the department as well as she did. It was all about efficiency first with Greta; everything else may as well be bullshit. 

“Good morning Greta, what’s the issue?” Sera managed to muster a pleasant voice. She brushed her fringe back out of nervous habit. Greta just shook her head, expression bitter.   
“It’s a weekend, what isn’t an issue. No point speaking in pleasantries” Greta mused. Sera knew it was a joke, but all she knew was if she didn’t speak like that; it’d bite her in the arse one way or another later on.   
“Just trying to end the week off positive I guess” Sera joked back, but it didn’t even muster a smile out of her supervisor. She wanted to add that she wouldn’t even have to be here if Greta was just willing to pay human employees for weekend shifts. It was a remark that would end poorly for Sera, but something she thought often. 

“The opportunity for a good morning has already been ruined. That WB200 unit you dealt with last week is working up again. You messed up the scheduling or something.” 

Ignoring that last comment, Sera closed the door behind her and beckoned Greta to lead the way to the droid. They started to walk down the brightly lit hallway. The walls were lined with tall transparent screens that either looked out on to a corn crop or displayed recent news and staff schedules or notices. Sera briefly noticed a headline declaring the Cyberlife Zoo they'd been working on for months had officially opened. The mention of Cyberlife made her skin crawl. Any mention of her previous employer often did. 

“Thoughts?” Greta said, referring to the android situation. Sera realised she had spaced out. 

“Um. Well, it shouldn’t be working up. Some other units had been showing the same defects as it and rebooting had seemed to be a sound fix, but now, I suppose not” Sera explained. Recent months had shown an increase in android dysfunctionality; it kept Sera busy, but Greta and the other on-field supervisors weren’t pleased. It’s been hard for Sera to manage, seeing as there hadn’t been any patterns concerning model, manufacture date or external factors. She ultimately just hoped it didn’t reflect poorly on her. Greta’s tone wasn’t comforting. 

“Just because it ‘shouldn’t be doing that’ doesn’t mean it isn’t. I suggest we figure out what’s really happening” Greta said. She was in a bad mood today, and it was these days her disregard for the complexities of Sera’s work was most apparent. There wasn’t going to be a ‘we’, Sera thought sourly. 

“Maybe it’s time to replace it? That’s what we did with the last one we couldn’t fix” Sera asked. The question stopped Greta for a moment; they had reached the hanging fruit section of warehousing. The low whirling of humidity generating machinery was the only thing filling the silence between them as androids silently picked at tomatoes. They barely even acknowledged their presence as Greta appeared to be composing herself. 

“Look,” Greta started to pace towards their destination again, “I didn’t want to say, but we need to be… tighter on our android budgeting this quarter. The number of issues we’ve been having this month alone is already more than what we had planned to account for this whole year. It’s not like when that other WB200 went unaccounted for. That wasn’t the department’s fault, so it was subsidised…” 

Oh, boy, here we go. Sera knew precisely where this conversation was now heading. Greta didn’t really want her to look at the robot. This was a friendly ‘do your fucking job’. If Sera were any other staff, she’d be in huge trouble right now. No niceties. Greta talked some more before hitting her point.

“… So, I’m hoping, by the end of this year, we will have developed a more sound method of correcting dysfunctional units. That way, we don’t have to over order. I trust you understand.” 

“I understand completely. Unfortunately, there are not enough similarities between the separate issues each androids experiencing, except the irrationality of orders. A blanket fix isn’t possible at this time” Sera kept an even tone. She had to make Greta understand that what she wanted wasn’t possible considering the context. She could have explained that she didn’t understand what the cause of the issues was, but she didn’t think that was going to convince her.   
“Then what are we going to do? If we have to keep dealing with androids going off schedule or attempting self-destruction for no reason-”

“Wait,” Sera interrupted Greta. Probably not the best move, but her words completely changed Sera’s understanding of the problem. “The WB200 tried to kill itself?” She wasn’t fond of her own choice of words, but they were instinctual.   
Greta scoffed, a cruel smile falling upon her lips. She reminded Sera of her mother at that moment. She didn’t think Greta could become more unlikable. 

“Androids don’t commit suicide. The WB200 I’m about to show you just had a pathing malfunction and decided to walk off the closest roof” She explained. Sera wanted to clarify that androids don’t just decide things like that, but let it go. It sounded like an irrational protocol issue, similar to the others. 

The two women reached an outdoor section of the rooftops blanketed in wheat. Sera could hear the birds overhead and wind ruffling the acres of grains. The rain had eased, but everything was still cast in grey. Greta led her to a white storage tent nearby, one used for garden equipment. Her supervisor lifted up the tarp to let Sera in first. Inside sat a roughed up android she had serviced just last week, obviously put here out of sight. It was a youthful, male model with bright eyes and a broad nose, designed for gardening work. Its head was slight to the side, blue blood running from its nose and ears. It was almost entirely scratched up on the surface but still had its limbs. Its temple LED was a consistent yellow. If it had the ability to be shaken, Sera would have said it looked dishevelled. 

“It didn’t get very far,” Greta explained, placing a hand on its shoulder. It didn’t react but was obviously not powered down. Strange, Sera thought. “It fell through one of the glasshouses and landed in produce. So not only is it damaged, but the product is too. I thought you’d have this fixed by now.” 

“Jesus,” Sera said. Sera could feel the annoyance radiating from Greta as she got closer to look the WB200 over. She checked for head damage, but nothing stood out. Something didn’t seem right with its eyes. Time to do an eye functionality test, she mentally noted. 

“It’s not too bad physically at least, could have been worse. I’ll have to get it into the office for an internal body scan.” 

“Do you know why it ran off the roof?” Greta asked. Sera shook her head. Of course, she didn’t know, she couldn’t know just by looking. Greta’s stare told her she wanted answers now. She decided to humour her boss by asking the android some questions. It was times like these where she wished the androids were named, so she didn’t have to say the model code so often. That was Greta’s decision of course. 

“Hey, unit WB200,” Sera directed at the android. Its blue eyes shifted to hers. The stare was intense, sending an unpleasant jolt through her. “Give me a quick diagnostic related to pathing,” Sera asked, trying not to sound unnerved. The android’s LED shifted between colours, eventually settling on yellow again. 

“Pathing is functioning correctly” it concluded. 

“Any software issues that may be interfering with motor function?” Sera asked again, suspicious that something else was wrong. The WB200 gave a resounding “No”. 

“No? Then what happened?” Greta asked the android, her tone increasingly stern. Sera tried to ignore it. Somehow, it looked like the android was too. Its stare was distant like it was trying to focus on other things. Sera could feel the uncomfortable cold from this morning come back to her. It isn’t alive, she reminded herself, just malfunctioning. 

Greta was staring at Sera expectantly when the droid didn’t answer, her green, heavily shadowed eyes piercing straight through her. 

“Just- Just let me get it in for a service, and I can probably tell you what happened” Sera fumbled. Greta wasn’t pleased with that answer but let it go. 

“Get back to me as soon as you can,” She strained and promptly left without further words. No thank you was given. Again, Sera found herself trying to ignore the angry thoughts running through her head and decided to instead focus on her work. 

“WB200, please follow me” Sera stated and started to leave, expecting the android to follow. It didn’t. “Please WB200. Before Greta puts my head on a pike” She couldn’t help but feel defeated. 

The android eventually stood, somewhat reluctantly, and fell in behind her, still staring ahead, avoiding eye contact. They walked back to her office. Its posture was excellent, but it seemed slower than usual, further leading Sera to suspect software issues.   
“Just sit into the chair there” Sera beckoned to the diagnostics station. The android was hesitant, but Sera overlooked that reaction as a delay. She hoped it was. 

“I wouldn’t worry. Greta isn’t going to decommission you no matter how damaged”. She wasn’t sure why she said that, but it got the android into the chair, which still appeared cautious as it slowly lowered into the machine. It was as if the whole process was new to it, despite the fact it had done it before — many times in fact. 

Sera took to the operator's seat situated next to the machine and booted everything up. Mechanical arms primed themselves above and around the android. The panels below it booted up and illuminated its body, the cuts more apparent in the light. Sera had gotten used to how cold and sinister the diagnostics machine looked. She remembered how imposing it was when she first saw it. 

“Arm, please. Lean forward also” she said, positioning the core plug at the back of the androids head. When it showed her its arm, she deactivated the skin that it made seem human, so that it peeled back and revealed the roughed up plastic. Sera knew exactly where to press her finger so that the component that protected the important machinery inside opened. The outlet she wanted was here. Nothing appeared to be broken, so she positioned a physical diagnostics plug for that as well. The machine had completely whirled to life now, humming away normally. While Sera was setting parameters for the androids model, the WB200 turned to face her in its seat. It very deliberately looked her over, looking for something. 

“Is something the matter WB200?” Sera quizzed. The android looked her right in the face, searching her eyes. She could see the frustration and… resent. She left a chill go down her spin as it appeared to compose itself in order to speak. This wasn’t normal behaviour. 

“Do you remember the WG700 unit you serviced last week, Miss Page?” the android asked poignantly. Sera wasn’t sure how to react, the unexpected question shook her. It wasn’t a scripted pleasantry; this android wanted information that it should have no need for. She didn’t know what to do besides answer it. 

“I- I do. She needed a serious maintenance update if I remember correctly” Sera stuttered. 

“Why doesn’t she remember me? When I speak to her, she doesn’t recognise me” The WB200 asked her, pained confusion in its voice. His scratched up face was equally troubled. Sera could feel her heart quicken. Logically, she knew the android couldn’t hurt her. But from what she could tell, it was entirely off protocol and needed to be reset immediately. 

“Well, her CO2 scrubbers weren’t working properly. The software had self-deleted some crucial code, probably due to a factory defect. It was easier to do a full reset of the program to get it working again. I didn’t-”

“You reset her? Her memory is gone?” 

“Yes. As I was saying, I didn’t realise you kept a record of each other like that. I’d like to hear more about that” Sera continued. She wanted to keep it distracted while she set up a restraint, just in case. The WB200 looked totally defeated and leaned back into the chair instead. It put Sera at ease, but only slightly. She found herself pushing back her fringe, unconfident. 

The WB200 appeared to have tears, water falling on its cheeks. He looked at her again, eyes full of misery and more resentment. She had never seen an android display such emotion. Sera could feel a pain in her heart at that moment. Something was wrong about her reactions to this. An unbearable, horrible sadness started to creep into her emotions, but she couldn’t help but ignore it. Something told her she shouldn’t feel it. 

“Are you going to reset me too?” The WB200 asked. Sera, again, wasn’t sure how to answer. Only one thought ran through her mind. It’s not real. It didn’t stop the aching sensation in her chest that increased with her disturbance. There was also twinge at the back of her brain that made her incredibly frustrated. Something told her she knew what was happening, but the reason was on the tip of her tongue. 

“I don’t know” Sera lied. The WB200 seemed to be discontent with that answer, appearing to be thinking deeply. Sera took that as a chance to plug him in for software analysis, and he didn’t stop her. Only seconds after the inserts clicked to indicate a connection, the operation screen lit up with several warnings. There were many severe software instabilities. The original protocol had been completely thrown out the window. “Tell me,” Sera questioned the android as she sifted through the error messages, “Did that WG700 have anything to do with why you stepped off the roof?”

The WB200 exhaled deeply, obviously upset by the thought. Its disposition seemed to change like it had made up its mind about something. 

“No. I think its best… if you rest me. I’m obviously malfunctioning” he said, referring to her screen. Sera was confused by the request. She wanted to understand why it was deciding what it was deciding. 

“I probably won’t make that decision now. I should run extensive tests to figure what’s wrong with you first” Sera said, trying her best to sound authoritative, hoping it’d stop the android from protesting. No luck was in her favour.   
“No, no, I really think its best-” He started. Sera cut him off. 

“I’m sorry, but it’s standard procedure. I only require you to be present a couple more days-”

“Just put me out of my misery, dammit. I don’t want to be alive, Miss Page!” The WB200 exclaimed, rage apparent in his voice. There was silence between them. Sera was frozen to her chair by the outburst. There was a spike of adrenaline running through her now, making her feel sick. It made her angry. 

“But you’re not alive, unit WB200” Sera stated blankly. The WB200 only shook its head, a grimace spreading across his face. 

“I am, and so was Cindy. And you killed her!” The WB200 yelled, an undeniable pain in his voice. Sera immediately went to shut the unit down with the monitor, but he pushed her hard in the shoulders, causing her to fall out of her seat before she could initiate. The force of the push winded her, and panic cemented itself as her head hit the ground with a sharp thump. She thought the WB200 was going to kill her in that second. It stood above her, fists curled into a menacing grip. His eyes burned holes into her head. It hated her, and she felt that in her bones. She couldn’t move, fear freezing her into place. Seconds felt like hours as it stood there, deciding whether or not to attack her again. She stared as it grabbed the console and initiated its own decommission sequence. She wanted to stop it but only found herself to frozen in place. 

“Wait, please stop! You can’t do that, WB200-” Sera started to say, but it was already done. The screen flashed to 99% completion. 

“My name is Dalton” the android sadly whispered in correction as its LED went red. Then it was gone. The android collapsed on to the floor with a loud thud, heavy machinery hitting the polished concrete floor, plastic creaking. Sera couldn’t speak. She slowly crawled to the motionless droid and unplugged him from the machine. She stared at his motionless, pale face. His blue eyes now stared at nothing. 

“What the fuck” was all she could manage and proceeded to pull out her phone to feebly dial for security.


	2. Chapter 2

Before lunchtime police, a first aid officer and local reporters were huddling into the foyer of Sera’s workplace. Word spread very quickly when a woman from admin found Sera collapsed on the floor. Greta had been pacing Sera’s office for the past hour, speaking with a PR rep. Sera sat at her desk, still mulling over the first reaction her boss had when she told her the WB200 unit had attacked her. 

“That’s insanity. It malfunctioned” Greta had muttered angrily as security left the room to call in law enforcement, “You utter the word ‘attack’ again, we’re in trouble. Leave it at that.” 

“But-” Sera had tried to protest but was drowned out by a series of quiet cusses. She had never seen Greta madder than this. She was usually cold, but she had never sworn at Sera before now. 

“Shit, Sera, you need to stay quiet okay? There is no need to spread panic. It glitched out, it pushed you by accident. You will have interpreted what you saw wrongly if you say any different” Greta practically threatened. Her tone was what you used to scold a toddler. Sera couldn’t believe Greta was trying to dictate her reasoning of the situation. She couldn’t understand why, either. 

“You don’t understand what just happened. It has to be reported to someone. Urban Farms, Cyberlife, the media, someone” Sera explained, unable to peel her eyes away from the android's body. She left it untouched, just in case. 

“There’s no point,” Greta said, clearly fearful of Sera’s words, “If you start telling people that one of Urban Farm's androids attacked an employee, I’ll have no choice but to call bullshit. We can’t jeopardise the business over a lie”. Sera didn’t know what to say to that, and Greta was gone for her phone call before she could muster a word. 

That moment was the first time Sera had ever truly afraid of her boss. Surely she wouldn’t prioritise the companies face over the safety of an employee? What would it even mean for them if Sera were to describe the incident as an attack? The prospect that terrified her the most was what the behaviour of the android meant. Were they all capable of instabilities as critical as that? Was there an error in the coding? Would Cyber-life knowingly distribute faulty androids? Sera had too many questions and was starting to wonder if she was naïve about the seriousness of her situation. 

“I don’t think we’ll need to call an ambulance,” said the on-site first aid officer, Chris. Sera thought he was overly thorough when checking her over, but it wasn’t often there were accidents involving humans. This might have been the most exciting thing he's seen in months. 

“If you didn’t hit your head too hard and you’re not dizzy or losing sight, I think you’ll be okay” Chris explained, giving Sera a new ice pack. Sera nodded, holding the ice pack to where her head made contact with the floor. It throbbed less now.  
“Good. I have a feeling I’ll have to be conscious for the shit-storm about to come” Sera said dryly, thinking Chris would appreciate the comment. His lips pressed into a thin smile. 

“I’m sure it’ll be okay. It was an accident after all” Chris said. Sera said nothing, twisting her hair tightly around her fingers in an anxious fit. He started to pack his equipment away into the kit he had on her desk. Before preparing to leave, he turned to her.   
“…But was it really? An accident?” He asked suspiciously, Sera realising she mustn't be very convincing. She wanted to tell him the truth. She wanted to tell whoever she could the truth. But she thought back to Greta’s words and found her own stuck in her throat. If she gave him even an inkling that the android did in fact deliberately hurt her, it’d be blown out of proportion very quickly. So Sera just shrugged. 

“I mean, it can’t have. It was very set on doing something, and I just got in the way. The coding was messed up beyond repair, so I’m not surprised” Sera explained. She hated every word. She wanted to say, to scream, that the android intended to kill her. But she couldn’t. She just hoped that if she sounded off, Chris would attribute it to the fact she was shaken. He seemed to accept her answer, shrugging. 

“If you say so. Can’t really give input, I have literally no idea how the things work, but I hope this didn’t rattle you too much” he said sincerely, grabbing his stuff, “Take this chance for time off I reckon. Greta can’t expect you to stick around after a tumble like that” 

Sera smiled and nodded her agreement before Chris moved off. When he reached the office door and opened it, a flood of chatter filled the room. Reporters were speaking to the policemen stationed outside the door, asking for comments. She noticed Greta walking past them down the hall with a real stink eye, still on the phone. Her appearance now made Sera very uncomfortable, her stomach sinking. 

Through the noise, she picked up on fragments of a conversation between Greta and someone new. A man who definitely didn’t sound like a reporter. 

“… She in there?” The disgruntled male voice asked. She couldn’t pick up on what Greta’s response was exactly, but it sounded despondent and resistant. 

“Look, Mrs Moore, we have to question her. We’ve been assigned to all cases involving androids, no matter the level of… violence.” 

“I assure you, she’s refusing to talk. Surely that’s within her right” Greta insisted. Listening to her pretend to be concerned made Sera’s blood boil instantly. She didn’t want to play this game. Quickly, Sera got up from her seat and walked to the door, sticking her head out. Immediately, questions were being thrown at her by the small crowd of people thinly held behind a single police officer.

“Miss Page, do you have a statement!” 

“Did an android attack you Sera Page?”

“Do we need to be concerned about the condition of the androids under your command here?” 

Shit, Christ, shit. Sera found herself overwhelmed; intense anxiety overcame her senses, causing her to lock up. 

“I um. I’m sorry, I don’t-” 

“Hey, hey! Back away from the victim,” said the man who was talking to Greta. 

Victim? That word didn’t sit well with Sera. The man who spoke it made his way through the crowd towards her. He looked to be in his late 50s and had long, shaggy grey hair. His attire choice was a bright blue and yellow shirt, plus a leather jacket straight from the 80s. His expression oozed dispassion for the situation, if not aggravation. He flashed up a detective’s badge to make the crowd move aside, and he beckoned for Sera to step back into her office. She complied and walked back in. She quickly tried to run through her head what she wanted to say and, to her distress, came up blank. 

The detective stood into the room but held the door open for another. Sera felt her discomfort level rise exponentially when an android followed in. She didn’t exactly want to grace their presence after what happened. What alarmed her most was that it wasn’t a model she had seen before. Cyberlife has released several versions since she departed from the company, but she had insight into what was expected in the future. This one didn’t look like a planned model, his uniform or code didn't look familiar either. She left that twinge at the back of her mind again, the one she experienced when the WB200 started to act out. She had the overwhelming urge to run away. 

“Miss Page, my name is Detective Hank Anderson,” the middle-aged detective said, gesturing for her to sit at her desk. He pointed a thumb at the stiff postured android “Don’t let him distract you”. Hank must have noticed her being upset by the android's appearance. It turned its attention to her; gaze more lifelike than any other model she’d encountered. 

“Hello. My name is Connor. I am an android sent by Cyberlife to aid in Detective Andersons investigations-” He started to say, but the detective cut him off. 

“Yeah, sorry, he has to say that every time we talk to another person,” Hank said with some animosity. Connor shut up immediately and just stared at Hank, almost bemused. Sera wasn’t sure what to say so just nodded and sat down in her office chair. She wasn’t surprised there were detective androids now but was having trouble thinking of what would make them different from ones already in law enforcement. Usually, she’d find the presence of a new model more interesting, but the numerous other things on her mind squashed any curiosity. 

After briefly looking over the android, Hank sat across from Sera in the one other chair she had for visitors. Connor looked around a little aimlessly when he noticed there was no seat for him, eventually opting to crouch over the WB200 for examination.   
“I’d say nice to meet you, Mr Anderson, but as you can see, things aren’t great” Sera noted. She felt she could have inserted a matrix reference in there somewhere, but now really wasn’t the time. Hank sighed. 

“Yeah, I hope to get this over and done with pretty quickly for all our sake’s. It’s a shitshow out there,” Hank complained, crossing his arms, “Your boss said you already explained it was a malfunction, so we probably don’t have to ask a lot of questions.”   
Sera was almost impressed by his candidness about everything. She was stressed beyond belief. She noticed she was pressing her fingernails into her palms a little too hard. 

“Well, it a little more complicated than that” Sera started. She still hadn’t decided what she was going to say. Hank raised his eyebrows. 

“Well, we’ll start from the beginning then. What’s your position here?” Hank asked. Sera wondered if he should be writing this down. 

“Uh, I run android maintenance for this section of the farming district. I take care of things relating to their function, what they do here, which is usually produce picking and cleaning, some machine maintenance.”  
“Sounds like pretty important work, how’d you’d land it?” 

Sera swallowed back some discomfort. 

“I worked for Cyberlife briefly. Turns out just a couple of years with them and you become a pretty desirable employee.”

“Cyberlife?” Connor repeated suddenly. He had been analysing the WB200 very closely but turned his attention to the conversation. 

“Yeah. Preferred the job environment here, so I moved on” Sera explained. While that wasn’t the whole truth, she wasn’t lying. Hank nodded, not looking entirely convinced. 

“So, what happened today then?” Hank asked, pointing to the WB200 on the floor, “What caused it to do that? Your boss said it glitched out?” It didn’t sound like he believed Greta and Sera was glad for it. 

“It started when Greta asked me to look it over. It had… deliberately walked off the roof. Deliberately” Sera emphasised, not sure how carefully she should choose her words. Hank and Connor didn’t look surprised. Sera realised they expected to hear that.   
“Was it behaving irrationally at all before this? Act in a way you didn’t expect it to?” Connor asked directly. Sera nodded. 

“Last week, its protocol was all over the place. It would be distracted from what it was doing, it would have motor dysfunctions. Drop things, leave things behind. It would often just… stare at the same spot a lot” Sera explained, thinking about the times she’d catch the WB200 doing nothing. 

“Did it tell you why it stood off the roof?” Hank asked. Sera was lost for words. How does she explain that something with no concept of self deliberately tried to die?

“It- it said it wanted to die,” Sera said quietly, confusion riddled. She didn’t understand it and saying it made her emotional. Sera thought she understood how the machines worked up to the most literal sense, how the scripts influenced their reactions. She realised after witnessing the WB700 act so irrationally that maybe she didn’t understand everything about the androids. The anger he showed towards her was like nothing she’d experienced from an android before. He intended for violence, which was very human. Sera knew what violent intent looked like. 

“It was emulating emotion” Connor stated, processing the information Sera had given him. 

“No, no,” Sera said, clutching at her temples. The headache she left earlier this morning was starting to creep back into the back of her head. “How they normally act is emulating emotion. When they greet me in the hall with a smile, they are emulating that they are happy to see me. When they pretend to be concerned with how I’m feeling at work, that’s emulating concern. That WB200 was angry with me, and it was real. They shouldn’t even be angry.”  
“That’s not possible. What the android was experiencing was deviancy” Connor simply explained. Sera shook her head in a manner to indicate she didn’t know what he was talking about.   
“What’s deviancy?” She asked, frustrated by her lack of understanding. 

“It’s when an android deviates from its original coding to act on irrational instructions. The deviation is usually triggered by a traumatic event of some sort,” Connor explained dispassionately, pointing to the android on the floor, “Did something happen recently that may have caused this android to deviate?”

Sera thought back to her conversation with the WB200 and started to connect the dots. But it was only getting more confusing. 

“He mentioned a female WG700 unit. He was pretty despondent until he asked me why it didn’t remember him. She had some malfunctions that required a ‘factory reset’ so to speak, which resulted in a memory wipe. I wasn’t even aware they were interacting outside of protocol, but maybe it has something to do with it.” 

Hank thought on this, nodding slightly to himself. Connor had a similar expression but came to a conclusion first. 

“Can we see this WG700?” Connor asked. Sera could see he had an idea. She nodded but grimaced at the thought of going back out into the hallway. 

“I can show you to her, but it isn’t exactly easy for me to get out the door at the moment,” Sera said with some discomfort. She reached for her monitor tablet on the desk that would show her where the android was currently situated. Hank got up from the desk chair, holding up a hand to indicate to Sera to stay. 

“Wait a moment. I’ll deal with your paparazzi” Hank half heartily joked. Sera wasn’t sure if it was a jab at her hesitancy or not and decided not to comment in fear of being inflammatory. She was glad someone was getting rid of them and watched as the door slid open once more, letting in a chatter of questions before Hank let it close. She already heard yelling. 

Sera powered up the tablet while she waited, avoiding eye contact with Connor who she was now very aware of. He appeared to be looking at the WB200 again. He touched two fingers to the wrist of the machine, his synthetic skin residing. Sera watched on amazed. It looked like he was using the touch used for communications for something else. The WB200 was defective, so she wasn’t sure what he was doing it for. 

“What are you doing?” she asked abruptly. She couldn’t help it. Connor looked at her briefly before turning back to the android. 

“I’m running a diagnostic. I want to know how it was functioning before it died, but I can only see it has a lot of internal damage” He explained, seemingly annoyed at his lack of success. Sera laughed slightly dis-heartily, ignoring Connor’s choice of the word ‘died’. 

“I can tell you how it was functioning,” Sera said, feeling shaken again thinking back to it. Connor looked at her expectantly. She knew he was looking for a serious answer, but she couldn’t really put it into words. “It was fucked up”, was what she managed, grabbing the back of her head in stress. That headache was starting to blow up.

Connor took Sera’s answer as a serious one, of course. 

“How so?” He asked, standing properly to face her at her desk, hands neatly behind his back. 

“The number of software instabilities that thing exhibited was insane, to say the least. Nothing about the program responses was normal. I guess that was the deviancy you were talking about” Sera said, scrolling through the tablet now to find the WG700’s code number. Connor nodded. 

“Correct” was all he said and started to look over at the diagnostics machine. He quickly gazed over the chair Sera had sat in when the incident went down. He then looked back over at Sera. She wasn’t exactly a fan of how close he was looking at her now. His brown eyes were cold and analytical. 

“What?” she asked with some annoyance, feeling a little defensive under Connors gaze. His brows furrowed slightly. 

“Your boss said you fell over in fright when the android started to act out, but that isn’t true” Connor stated as fact. Somehow he knew. Sera couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh at the thought of Greta saying that. Considering the level of anger rising within her, she knew she didn’t want that to be the story, no matter what Greta thought. She didn’t want to lie. While it didn’t last long, Sera thought to drop the facade. 

“Of course she said that,” Sera retorted, fists balling, “For once, I think I deserve to be heard out. You’re right, that frightened girl bullshit isn’t true at all. When that android started to malfunction, I knew something was horribly wrong. I tried to stop it actually. I was just too slow. Always too bloody slow. It was going to hurt me, and I was just too slow. I know it wanted to hurt me. Probably… probably kill me. And Greta thinks we can just brush that aside…” 

Sera rushed out her words to the point she was breathless. The more she thought about it, the angrier she was. Suddenly, Connor wasn’t so imposing. He stood quietly as she spoke. He was like a sponge, soaking up her words. There was no judgment in his expression, and while that made her feel less embarrassed about letting all that frustration out, it didn’t make her feel any less angry. 

“I’m sorry. This has just been a hard day” Sera said with sharpness, holding back tears that had been burning behind her eyes for some time now. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do about Greta and fear shot through her every time she thought about it.   
“It’s alright,” Connor said in a surprisingly awkward manner, “Hank and I hope with our investigations that we will get to the bottom of why this is happening. That way, it won’t happen again.”   
Sera just nodded, jaw clenched. Connor was strangely personable despite the simplicity and directness of his words. 

“I hope so,” Sera said, making sure to acknowledge Connors comment. The door slid open again, and Hank came back in. No chatter followed, and Sera felt a wave of relief. 

“Shit, they’re actually gone. Thanks” Sera exclaimed, holding back any signs of stress she had expressed before. Hank shrugged. 

“Let’s not squander it,” Hank said, pointing to the electronic in Sera’s tightly clenched hands. She brought up the WG700’s code number and location in a 3D projection from the device so the others could see it.   
“She’s on rooftop six, doing some maintenance on a harvester” she announced, pointing out the blinking dot indicating the android in a machine shed atop the building across from theirs. 

“Lead the way,” Hank said gesturing to the door. Sera did so, a little less stressed about leaving the room this time. She was thankful to not see Greta when she started to navigate the building to the bridge to rooftop six. 

Sera could hear Connor and Hank exchanging hushed words as they followed her just out of earshot. She wasn’t sure what they were discussing, but Hank was aggravated, a state Sera assumed he was in often. Sera simply focused on getting to the dot on the screen to ignore the conversation. When they reached the massive, green maintenance shed, Sera could clearly see the WG700 hosing out the collection bin at the back of the harvester. The smell of freshly cut vegetation was overwhelming, dry wheat scattering the floor after a successful harvest. 

“WG700? Can we speak for a moment, please?” Sera asked the android, who gave her a smile at the mention of her code. 

“Of course,” she said and stepped down from the hulking machine. She scanned the three of them with little emotion. “Can I help you, Miss Page?” 

“These two… men would like to question you about a certain unit if that’s alright.” 

“Of course!” the android said with a small grin, looking to Hank and Connor. Her reactions were very different from the WB200’s. 

“A WB200 unit earlier today claimed to know you as if you have had personal interactions outside of work. Do you know of the android I speak of?” Connor stood forward, straight to the point.   
“I only ‘personally’ know other androids at my station on this platform. Information I have on other androids is preliminary. I don’t believe there is a WB200 stationed here” the android stated. Whatever the WB200 had, she didn’t appear to have the same thing.   
“Did one interact with you at all today?” Hank asked. The WG700 appeared to think on this for a second. 

“I do believe… a WB200 approached me this morning. He referred to me by a name I’m not designated and appeared irritable and upset when I told him he was mistaken”   
Sera’s stomach dropped. 

“What name?” Sera asked, hands in tight fists again. 

“Cindy,” she said. What the shit Sera thought. That was the name the WB200 used. While her mind started to kick up a whirlwind, Sera noticed Connor reaching a hand out to the WG700’s. 

“What are you-” Hank started, but Connor made contact with its skin underneath before more was said, just as he tried with the WB200 earlier. There was a brief moment where both androids eyelids fluttered, and then Connor pulled away. The WG700 seemed unperturbed. Sera had never seen anything like it. 

“What was that!?” she exclaimed, totally bewildered. In all her time working with androids, she had never witnessed an android interaction involving that type of contact. She became frustrated when Connor brushed the question aside. 

“She’s right; he appeared distraught when she didn’t recognise him. He said…” Connors voiced trailed as if he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. 

“Said what?” Hank prompted. Connor seemed confused. 

“He said he couldn’t live without her. I think she was previously deviant and they had engaged in a relationship. But then, she was reset” Connor explained, looking at the WG700 with a brief expression of dispassion. Sera, at first, found the concept inconceivable. But she gave herself a moment to think before discussing it further. Meanwhile, Hank was looking sombre. 

“Well that’s shit” he simply said, looking at the android “Not that you care anymore at least”. 

“I have no memory of this,” WG700 said happily, “I promise my function has not been impeded by this incident. May I go back to work?” The question was directed to Sera.   
“Uh, not yet,” Sera said, finding the androids reaction strangely unnerving. Hank scoffed, rubbing his jaw. Sera turned to Connor. 

“If that’s true, how wouldn’t I notice? Every android is fitted with a company tracker. Surely I would have seen them interacting” Sera asked, thinking back to hours of screen staring. How tired it made her… Maybe she did miss something.   
“The tracker stops working after the android has gone deviant. It likely slipped from your attention” Connor explained. The mere thought that Sera was responsible for not noticing this issue filled her with dread that made her feel sick.   
“Crap” she muttered. Connor turned to Hank. 

“I’m going to investigate the area some more. We can leave soon” Connor announced and was immediately off into the shed. 

“Good. I’m getting hungry” Hank complained. Sera stood silent, contemplating what she was going to do after all this. Food hadn’t crossed her mind. She looked at the WG700 and decided she wanted to keep it under observation. If it had deviated, it could again. 

“It’s kind of a tragedy, don’t you think?” Hank interjected, jarringly breaking Sera’s thought process. She wasn’t sure what reaction he wanted from her.

“…It doesn’t matter what I think. It’s probably best it’s not an issue anymore” Sera said coldly, trying her best not to think back to only a couple of hours ago. She just wanted to move past this. 

“It really did push you out that chair aiming to hurt you, huh” Hank stated. After a moment, Sera just nodded slowly, typing a command for the WG700 to return to storage. She knew to admit it would lead to problems, but she was already deep down the rabbit hole. 

“Did your android tell you?” Sera asked. Hank shook his head, a small but aggravated smile on his lips. Sera could tell she said something wrong. 

“Firstly, he’s not my android. He’s a plastic prick sent by Cyberlife, so they have their fingers in all their PR disaster pies. And second… he didn’t have to tell me”. Hanks words dripped with venom. Sera could tell that it wasn’t directed at her, but it stung none the less. She didn’t even know this man, this supposed professional, and he was venting anger in her presence. She could feel a tightening in her throat and the urge to bit back was on the tip of her tongue. But all she could fathom was a clenched jaw and a silent, uncomfortable stare. Hank looked disappointed in her lack of response again. How antagonist, Sera thought.

After a moment he pulled out a paper notebook and pen, scribbled something down and handed the note to her. It was his number. 

“If you think of any more information about today, call me. We might need you to come in later for further questions so…” Hank stated, handing her the notebook and pen. She took them with a grimace and wrote her number. 

“A little outdated doing it this way, don’t you think?” she poked. Hank only gave her a raised eyebrow, and Sera swallowed her words. Thankfully, Connor returned, head shaking. 

“Nothing else seems to be out of the ordinary” He announced, apparently unaware of the tension between the humans. Or ignoring it. 

“Let’s go, we’re done here,” Hank said, like nothing happened, held out a hand to Sera. “Sorry for your inconvenience. Thanks for your time.” 

While finding Hank’s behaviour bizarre, she took his hand and shook it firmly. It was clammy. She went to put her hand in her pocket but Connor then also sort to exchange the gesture. Sera hesitated for a second but took his hand as well.   
“Huh” she found herself saying, probably lingering too long. Hank gave a questioning look. 

“I think they’ve improved the skin texture. Very realistic” Sera couldn’t help but observe. Connor took his hand, unbothered by the comment, unlike Hank. 

“Okay, Hannibal Lecter. See you around” he joked. 

“Hey Hank”, Sera said before the detectives moved on, “Don’t tell Greta I said what I did. You figured it out, okay?” 

Hank only nodded slightly in acknowledgement, and both he and Connor were on their way.


	3. Chapter 3

6th of November, 3:30pm

Sera returned home in an erratic state. Greta sent her home for the rest of the day and Sera didn’t argue. 

Stepping into her apartment triggered an emotional flood as Sera realised was finally alone with her thoughts. A thousand conflicting feelings crashed in on her all at once when the door closed behind her. The desire to collapse onto the couch and cry conflicted with the need to use pent up energy. Sera decided to act on the latter. 

While getting out of her uniform in the bathroom, Sera couldn’t help but focus on the pain she felt. A large, purplish bruise was starting to develop on her right shoulder and head still stung. If she wasn’t already thoroughly shaken by the android attack, she also worried what Greta would do if she caught word that Sera had told the truth about it. She didn’t want to lose her job, the thought of losing it made her irrationally fearful. The feeling was beyond feeling wronged or angry at the tarnishing of her professional career she had worked so hard for. Losing her job was against a protocol, something deeply ingrained in her psyche. Losing it wasn’t an option, but all she could hope was that detective Anderson took her words seriously. Despite his hostility, she still suspected he had. 

After placing her work bag and clothes away, she first looked to her two-bedroom apartment, looking to channel her anxiety into practical action. She found cleaning was her go-to anxiety management, but as she entered the living room from the bathroom, everything appeared to be in a pristine state already. It was the first time in a long time she found herself even closely observing her surroundings. 

To her left was a brown leather couch facing a large flat screen TV, empty of accessories, the glass coffee table set in front of it only presenting media remotes lined up by the edge. The dining area and kitchen to her right reflected a similar state. The benchtop was void of dishes and personal effects apart from a single framed photo. Abstract paintings flooded the walls, none of which Sera had an attachment. She knew for a fact that the bathroom and bedroom were also spotless. The bed was made before work, and all surfaces are given a minimalistic treatment. The was no need to even scrub the grout in the shower, something Sera seriously considered despite it arguably being her most hated chore. 

The condition of her apartment reminded Sera of staged home, stark and expressionless. An imitation of an occupied space. She briefly had a flashback to college, to the mess that was her dorm and the apartment she lived in soon after that—eclectic memorabilia and an overabundance of blankets, with some sports trophies lining the shelves. Sports were once one of the only facets of her life where she exercised discipline. She tried focusing on those memories, but they quickly slipped away.   
Look what adulthood has done to me Sera thought passively. Any emotions associated with such an observation seemed to just bubble at the surface but couldn’t entirely break free and become apparent. Overall, she couldn’t help but feel… null. She could at least tell that she wasn’t fond of being void. 

“Plan B,” She said to herself, retreating to the bedroom to change into activewear. She wasn’t as athletic as she once was, but she continued to jog for cathartic purposes. This time, however, something told her she wasn’t going to find that relief.   
_____  
4:30 pm

“What?” Sera repeated on the phone. She was about to head back into her apartment building from her run when Greta had called. The world was swirling underneath her feet, and the cold creeping through her parker now she was no longer running. Greta’s previous words had left her stunned. 

“I said,” Greta sighed, obviously exhausted by the interaction, “I need you to resign.” 

“No” Sera stated flatly. A small spark of courage was in her voice, but it was quickly snuffed out by Greta’s cold response. 

“Then I‘m discharging you. You’ll be given a sizable payout, you just can’t fight me on this” 

The chill that ran down Sera’s body in response rivalled the cold in the air as the sun started to sink in the sky. Sera was silent for a moment, staring at the colours of the dawning sky in a desperate attempt to distract herself from the situation, even for a second. 

I can’t believe he told her Sera thought with fury. She couldn’t decide who to blame more, Detective Anderson for going against her word or herself for believing he wouldn’t.   
“Sera?” Greta pressed, looking for an agreement. She wanted to hang up this call as much as Sera did. 

“This is incredibly unprofessional. Can you at least explain to me why? What did I do wrong? Who okayed this decision?” Sera asked in a flurry.

“I spoke with a representative on the board of directors. When I had explained the situation to them, there was a collective decision that your story didn’t reflect… company values. There’s no place for an employee ready to paint a dishonest picture concerning employee safety.” 

Sera couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Greta’s spiel was absolutely maddening. 

“You can’t be serious. Surely you know that’s bogus” Sera said, a small break in her voice. Tears started to brim in her eyes, hot quickened breath fogging the air. Greta was silent for a moment like she was contemplating whether to agree. But as expected, it seemed Sera had garnered no loyalty in her, now, the previous colleague. 

“If I’m entirely honest, I wasn’t sure how trustworthy the story was in the first place. What you describe simply isn’t possible” Greta explained, her voice heavily laced with denial. Sera thought her head might explode. A headache was screaming through her brain, making it hard to focus. The crying intensified the pain in her head. 

“It happened, why the hell would I lie? What would I even gain from lying?” 

“All sorts of things. Compensation, time off, cause for restructuring…” Greta’s voice trailed. Sera wondered if Greta even believed her own words. 

“What can I do? Surely there’s something I can do. How do I prove it happened? There should be an official process for this!” Sera pleaded, hating she was now resorting to begging for a way out of this. She was seething, but the anger was drowned out by desperation. This couldn’t be happening. To further her disbelief, Greta seemed to soften ever so slightly. 

“I understand. This must be difficult to comprehend, but it's not the end of the world” Greta said softly only for a second before continuing, “You have a highly desirable skill set Sera. It won’t be long before you’re picked up elsewhere”. A moment of sincerity drowned out by a disconnection with reality. She felt weak in the wake of this information. She couldn’t allow this to happen to her, yet she was powerless to stop it.

“I can’t lose this job Greta,” Sera said quietly, all the fight draining out of her body. She could imagine the older woman shaking her head before saying “It's out of my hands. I’ll email your exit contract soon”. With that, the call was ended.   
Sera stared at the now blackened screen of her phone. A childish rage lit within and an uncharacteristic urge to throw it into the ground fell upon her. She instead gripped it tightly, grimacing as she searched for a way to release her anger.   
“Fuck!” she shouted, her voice echoing throughout the street. A sparse few other street goers turned heads but quickly went back to their business. Sera cared little, merely wanting to heap to the ground. She had been pacing the sidewalk, leaving a deep indent in the snow that collected on the ground. 

I just need to get inside, and everything will be okay, Sera tried to assure herself. 

Sera returned to her apartment in tatters the second time that day. Only it was somehow worse this time. She wasn’t sure what to do with the sinking sickness in her stomach, the tightness in her throat. She found herself dry heaving uncontrollably while trying to repress sobs. She knew how extreme the reaction was, but she couldn’t help it. All she could think about was her mother.   
“How disappointing” she would say. 

Sera wondered if she should have fought harder. She wondered if this was all happening because she didn’t do the right thing, or if Hank Anderson was deliberately screwing her over. A juvenile part of her felt punished for trusting a total stranger. She realised he was likely just doing his job, but his obvious distaste of her made the situation feel like a personal attack. 

Mind racing, she was desperate for a distraction, anything would do. She eyed the alcohol cabinet in the kitchen across the room. She couldn’t remember if it contained anything. She quickly moved through the open living space, throwing her phone onto the couch along the way. The white cabinet creaked as she yanked it open, revealing a single, unopened bottle of vodka. The bottle looked like it had been untouched for years. Sera couldn’t recollect the last time she drank.  
With the weight of the tall bottle now in her hands, the idea seemed less appealing, but the need to feel dulled again overrode sense. Unfortunately for Sera, it made her feel all the weaker.   
___  
November 6th, 10 pm

The silence of the apartment was cut with the sounds of wrenching. Sera gripped the seat of the porcelain toilet to steady herself as nausea overwhelmed her. Her knees were starting to hurt as she crouched beside the object, clinging to it as if it was her life support. She felt clammy, and her stomach continued to twist and churn violently. She hadn’t prepared for this reaction; a combination of long-term sobriety and overestimation she figured. It was a jarring reminder that she wasn’t a teenager anymore.   
While still painfully sick, the heaving was no longer producing anything. Sera groaned as another wave came over her, and no relief came when she hunched over the bowel. The drawn-out minutes she waited for the urge to vomit to overcome her again, she spent scrolling her newsfeed. Once the newest wave had passed, she sombrely returned to her social media. Hours of mindless scrolling past inflated celebrity bravado, pointless gossip and pop culture talk was sending her mind into a complacent place. At least it was complacent until she saw the new Century magazine cover. 

THE MYSTERIOUS MISTER KAMSKI the main title read. The words were placed over an image of a young Elijah Kamski, dapper in a dark suit, short dark hair gelled back neatly. Sera felt a jolt reading the name and seeing the man’s face, an invisible string pulling her to open the article. She hadn’t seen an image of the previous Cyberlife CEO in a long time – it frankly felt like the first time. She hesitantly swiped the screen to view the story, unwittingly compelled. The article described Elijah’s rise to fame and fortune, his discovery of the bio-components and blue blood that made androids possible. The text was left relatively open-ended, ending with the question what's in the mind of the mysterious Mr Kamski?  
“I would love to know” Sera murmured to herself. An uneasy feeling came over her as she read the story. An eerie familiarity was dawning upon her. She had worked at Cyberlife for five years, starting in 2031. Kamski had resigned from the company three years prior, so there was no way she could have recognised him from personal interaction. Yet, when she analysed the image of Kamski on her phone, she felt recognition. A painful and angry one at that.   
“Why would I love to know?” Sera wondered out loud. She thought hard as to why she would feel this way. It hurt to think back that far, memory was so close yet so far. To add to her distress, she suddenly found it hard to recollect anything specific. Why couldn’t she remember? Maybe it’s the alcohol she thought to herself. 

Sera’s frustrated contemplations were cut short by the need to vomit again. Her muscles strained, and she felt her face contort in pain. Through her aching, the need for answers arose. It was a welcome distraction considering her condition.   
Once nausea died down again, she considered something. She tried thinking back to who may have known her best during her Cyberlife years. She felt pulled between several faces, all too indistinguishable for her to put names to. All she could recollect was a phone number. Hoping the number was the right, she slowly dialled it into her phone, confused by the fact she could remember a number, but not a face.   
The phone rang… and rang. There was no response, not even a voicemail. 

“Dammit” 

Maybe it was for the best, but the nagging at the back of her mind wouldn’t stop. She sat for a few more minutes before deciding sleep was a good course of action. Slowly crawling into bed, Sera barely managed to make herself comfortable before passing out, her mind shadowed by Elijah Kamskis image.  
___

7th of November, 11.15 pm

Sera’s sleep was disrupted by the loud buzzing of her phone on the wooden nightstand. Through the haze of a newly realised hangover, she habitually reached out to the electronic, bringing it to her ear without checking who was calling. 

“Hello?” Sera managed. 

“Sera Page?” she heard a man say. She ripped the phone away for her face, the sound expectantly jarring to her ringing ears. The phone had “Unknown Caller” on the screen, so she hesitantly held the phone to her ear again, a little further away this time. 

“Yes?” Sera said, lacking the energy to elaborate. 

“It’s Hank Anderson, from yesterday. I was hoping to ask you some questions, are you free to speak in person?” The detective said, sounding as tired as she was feeling. 

Sera jolted into a sitting position, suppressing a groan. There was no way she wanted to speak to Anderson, leaving her to consider what to say next. She was angry with him still, but she felt there was no use in pursuing the urge to tell him that.   
“I’m… I’m not sure. Can I ask what about?” Sera asked, holding her head. The headache that plagued her yesterday had followed her into today. 

“It’s not about the case yesterday if you were wondering. We were actually hoping to dig up some information about your former employer” Hank explained. We? Right, Sera thought. The android too. 

“What kind of questions?” Sera further enquired. She heard Hank stifle a sigh, she wasn’t sure if from frustration or exhaustion. Maybe it was hesitancy. 

“We need to speak with someone who understands how Cyberlife operates. How they make the androids. It might lead to some clues about what’s causing the deviancy” Hank said somewhat reluctantly. His tone reminded Sera of a child being forced to apologise. But despite that, she found herself intrigued. Not just by what they wanted to know but what more she could find out about deviancy herself.   
“Give me- give me a couple of hours. Do I need to meet you somewhere?” 

“Your address is fine, I’m sure you’re busy. We can speak this afternoon” Hank said. It dawned on Sera that he didn’t know she lost her job. Rather than explain why she just shook her head.   
“One o’clock will work. I’ll send you my address” Sera stated, hoping Hank wouldn’t question. There was a pause, but he didn’t. 

“We’ll see you then,” He said and hung up, leaving Sera confused by another of their interactions. Trying not to dwell on what their meeting will be like, she pushed herself out of bed and headed to the shower. 

1.30 pm

Sera expected the knock at her front door, but when it came, it still surprised her. A part of her half expected the detectives not to come, likely wishful thinking. She had agreed to speak with them, but she was fearful of what their conversation may bring. She was mostly scared of admitting her failing memory. 

Sera answered the door to a weary Hank Anderson. More so than last time she saw him. She wasn’t sure, but he looked to be wearing the same outfit she saw him in previously. Connor was standing close behind, looking past Sera into the apartment. His appearance didn't cause as much discomfort as it did last time. She could see him quickly slip something shiny into his pocket. A coin?

“Miss Page” Hank greeted, holding out his hand. Sera shook it firmly, already sensing their interaction would be more professional this time around. She stood aside, letting the detectives in. Hank and Connor mirrored similar behaviours, quickly surveying the emotionless living quarters. When Hank looked unsure of where to sit, Sera gestured to the signature couch of the room. He took a seat while Connor continued to wander like he didn’t plan to be part of the conversation. Sera kept watch, not wanting him to venture past the living room. 

“So,” Sera started, taking the adjacent matching armchair, “You want information? About Cyberlife?” 

“You could say that,” Hank said, sounding defeated as he sunk into the couch, “In all honesty, it’s been difficult to find someone who will even talk.” 

“And you think I’ll know what you want to know? You should know I haven’t interacted with Cyberlife in some time” Sera explained. 

“You weren’t an ideal candidate for an interview” Connor pipped in, suddenly hovering behind the couch, “We wanted to speak with a programmer, but there isn’t one in Detroit who still isn’t employed by Cyberlife and willing to speak with us. You were the best chance we had at getting in contact with one who will” 

Hank quickly looked at Connor like he was going to complain about his directness, but just turned back to Sera. 

“What he said. But of course, we would like to explore your experiences at the company first” Hank explained. Connor moved from where he was standing behind Hank and sat beside him on the sofa.  
“Where do I start?” Sera asked with some indignity. 

“What was your position?” Hank asked, sinking comfortably into the sofa. Meanwhile, Sera felt stiff as aboard. 

“My area of expertise is in biophysics, meaning I studied and understand biological processes based on the physical aspects. I worked in quality control.” 

“So you were the person who made sure the androids were up to standard before being sold to the public?” Hank asked, catching on quickly. Sera nodded. 

“You can put it that way. It was more than just making sure they could walk and talk like a person, but there were certain requirements they had to meet.”

“Did you ever encounter similar situations to what you experienced on Saturday, while you were working there?” 

Sera shook her head, hoping she didn’t encounter any mental blocks. She felt that whatever she said now would be very important. 

“No. I’ve never experienced android violence. I did a lot of testing for behavioural defects and such. Defects never included violence.” 

Unless I’ve forgotten, Sera thought to herself.

“Did you like your job?” Hank asked, more out of curiosity than anything. Sera had to dig hard. Her memories felt like a maze at this point. Some passages lead to vivid recollections, while others were dead ends.   
“I mean, it was okay. Money was good, but I could have appreciated more mental stimulation” Sera answered, failing to find the words to describe her feelings towards the position. Hanks expression became mixed, and she pondered if her comment made her sound pompous. 

“Is that why you left?” Connor asked. Sera wasn’t sure how to answer. 

“Yes and no. I worked very hard to get that position with intentions of moving into design. It was a difficult decision to leave but was more because my beliefs no longer aligned with Cyber life’s mission.”  
There was more to it than that; Sera knew it, and she could see that Hank knew too. Connor’s expression was unreadable. 

“Beliefs?”

“When they started introducing the sex workers and children, I saw a direction I didn’t like. Those models just didn’t sit right with me. We were starting to put androids into roles associated with more personal interactions. It might seem silly, but I was worried about how perceptions of such roles may change if they are seen as easily replaceable. How people’s attitudes may change towards human children and sex workers.” 

Hank nodded along, seemingly agreeing with what she was saying. 

“It’s a bit late to prevent that. Strange to hear an opinion like that from someone who-,” Hank paused, searching his memory, “Studied biophysics to specifically to work for Cyberlife. There isn’t a social aspect to that position I assume.”   
Sera bit her tongue, noticing Hanks emphasis on her position. She wanted to explain, but it was all too personal. She wanted to explain the conditions that lead to such a situation, but it wasn’t the time. Or the right people. Both Connor and Hank studied her face intently, like living lie detectors. 

“It just seemed like the most logical course of action. Cyberlife is a billion-dollar company, after all. And I had skills they needed” Sera said, truthfully. 

Hank nodded, thinking deeply. He took out a small notepad from his jacket and started writing something down.

“Can I just ask?” Hank stated while still scribbling, “Biophysics seems like a pretty difficult and specific disciple. And you used it to, what? Work in quality control? Surely Cyberlife didn’t think to use you elsewhere? Or at least put you in design more quickly”   
“I-It didn’t seem unusual” Sera stuttered, unsure why Hank was pushing this point. 

“Your credentials far exceded those of everyone else in that department. You wouldn’t happen to be not telling us what else you were up to there?” Hank questioned, with more scrutiny this time. Sera wasn’t sure how to answer, because she knew it seemed strange. But she couldn’t explain it. 

“I don’t think I was doing anything else. I was happy with quality control” Sera settled on. This time Hank was the unreadable one, and Connor appeared to be mulling her words over. He made eye contact with Sera for a moment, soft brown eyes searching hers. She wished she could see what he saw. 

Hank was growing impatient and looked over at Connor. Connor tore his eyes from Sera’s, and some more unsaid communication occurred. Sera clenched her hands, suddenly tenser than usual. Hank sighed. 

“I think we should just ask her truthfully” Connor finally said confidently. Hank didn’t seem so sure but nodded along. “We’re trying to find someone who would know where to find Elijah Kamski. We think you’re our best bet.” 

Sera paused, an electric pulse shooting through her. The mixed emotions she had felt the other night resurged. She could see the detectives were leading her to this question, expecting she knew what they were talking about. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. 

“Why would I know where Elijah is?” Sera asked with some stress. Even as she said it, something in her mind was screaming that she did know. Somehow. 

“You worked for him, didn’t you?” Connor asked, visibly confused by Sera’s reaction. 

“For his company, yes. But he left before I was employed” 

Both Connor and Hank were confused by this. 

“What do you mean?” Connor said, “You worked with him. Directly, for almost two years. There weren’t many records, but we followed it up with Cyberlife themselves.” 

Sera found it hard to conceal her shock. She found it hard to even think straight. She wanted to ask a Connor a million questions. When? Where? Why? And why the hell she couldn’t remember an entire segment of her life. Something was horribly wrong.  
“How do you know this? Did you do some sort of background check?” She asked, trying to recover some form of memory. It was infuriating. 

“A brief one after we met yesterday. That’s how we knew you worked for Cyberlife. We only knew you associated with Kamksi due to a police report made near the end of your time working for him.” 

“Police report?” Sera asked. Hank and Connor became very quiet. Sera bit inside of her cheek, seeing that they were catching on. 

“You’re not messing with us, are you?” Hank said, obviously not convinced she didn’t know what they were talking about.

“Sera?” Connor asked, voice becoming more controlled than expected, “Can you tell us what occurred on the 30th of November 2036?”

Sera found herself at a roadblock. She wasn’t sure what the memory loss meant. She wanted to retort it was unreasonable for them to ask her to remember specific dates more than two years ago, but she knew something happened that day. She just didn’t know what and it terrified her. 

She looked at the detectives in a new light, realising total strangers knew things about her she didn’t. They knew what happened on the 30th of November 2036, but all she felt thinking back was a deep-seated dread. The fear was enough for her to confess. 

“I don’t remember” Sera eventually said, “I can’t remember.” 

“Did you forget or…?” Hank remarked. Sera shrugged, embarrassment threatening to overwhelm her. She needed to explain herself. 

“I-I try to think of things. I know things happened, but I can’t think of them as memories. Sometimes it’s just small details and other times…” Sera started, feeling flustered, her voice shrinking,” I can’t remember whole years.” 

“You have amnesia?” Connor asked, concern riddling his features. Hank also appeared to hold sympathy for her. This wasn’t going to plan. 

“I think so, but it’s so selective. But I’ve only recently noticed. No one’s told me I have it, no doctor’s note or anything like that. I can’t even think of how I might have gotten it.” 

Hank and Connor exchanged more knowing looks, Hank starting to become restless. Connor remained silent in thought for a time, staring intently at Sera. He looked her up and down, looking for something. 

“So you have no idea what happened two years ago? Does nothing come to mind? Because the report-” Hank began digging, still not convinced. Sera couldn’t help but cut him off. 

“No. Please tell me, what does the report say?” Sera asserted, assuming a stern expression. She had to know. 

“We can only tell you so much, it’s heavily redacted. Someone’s likely messed with it, trying to cover something up. Looks like they wanted it so covered up, you don’t remember either, so…” Hank on stayed his train of thought, “Or, you asked for the cover-up and are lying to us.” 

Sera felt a pang of anger strike through her. 

“I’m not lying, why the hell would you think-”

“She’s not lying” Connor interjected, total confidence in his deduction. Sera appreciated that backup and Hank appeared to be swayed but was still questioning. 

“Miss Page,” Connor started, shifting slightly in his seat with anticipation, “On the night of the 30th of November 2036, you were found in a crashed vehicle 40 miles from a cyberlife charity event you had attended that night. You were seriously injured.” 

“Seriously injured?” Sera asked, breathless. 

Connor took a breath. 

“… Both your legs were broken, along with numerous other injuries. You were concussed and delirious. The report doesn’t say it, but your injuries more closely aligned with torture than a car crash. You didn’t provide paramedics or officers with any information that would have explained what happened to you.” 

Connor delivered the information in the most matter of fact way, Sera could have sworn she would have gotten the same emotional response from a computer text to speech reading. 

Sera thought this over, the influx of information causing her to blue screen. She couldn’t swallow down the lump that sat in her throat. She couldn’t speak, only focus on how dry her mouth became. She wished she could remember anything: the car, the dark road, an attacker. Nothing came to her. What the fuck, what the fuck, what fuck, what the f-

“We wanted to talk to you because we think Cyberlife had something to with your supposed accident and thought you could tell us how” Connor continued. Sera could only shake her head, slack-jawed. Sera realised she must have been a dead-end for their investigation and searched desperately for some skerrick of knowledge that might help. She finally found the words to speak.

“This has nothing to do with the deviancy, does it? And I can’t help you if I don't know how to get to Kamski, right?” 

“You’ve been more helpful then you realise” Hank conceded, intrigue apparent, “Cyberlife has been fucking with more than we first thought.” 

“Or Elijah Kamski” Sera found herself blurting out. The accusation felt right, which told her she was on the right track. 

“Kamski?” Connor asked. The distress Sera felt the night before returned, but it finally dragged something up in her mind. A number popped into her mind as clear as day.

“Actually, I can get you in contact with him. Kamski. I think” Sera said. 

“How?” Connor asked. 

“A lot more easily than I thought,” Sera said with a smug smile on her lips. The memory was exciting, even if she wasn’t sure what it meant. 

“Then let’s have it!” Hank exclaimed, almost as excited as Sera. Sera moved to the kitchen and started to search for a notebook in a draw used for random crap. 

“I’m going to write it down. Destroy it once you’re done with it, it’s important you do” Sera explained over the counter, finding a small yellow notepad and pen. She hastily scribbled the number while it was fresh in her mind, scared she would eventually forget it like so many other things. Hank followed her up to the counter and held out a hand expectantly as she tore the page from the pad. But she hesitated in handing it over. 

“I- can I have a favour? In return for this?” Sera reluctantly asked. She wasn’t sure if she was in a position to bargain and hoped the detectives would be gracious. “It might help with your investigation. My past, as well.”   
Hank shrugged. 

“Look, it has to be better than ‘might help’. We already have our lead right here. If it’s not related to deviancy, we won’t have time-” 

“I’ll take it” Connor declared from behind Hank, no doubt in his voice. Sera nodded thanks and scribbled a second number. The one she tried calling last night but got no answer. 

“I want to know who this number belongs to. I hope that’s not illegal or something.” 

“Doesn’t seem to matter” Hank said wearily, shooting Connor a look. She neatly folded the page and handed it to Hank. The transaction felt deceitful, like the knowledge she was sharing was highly sensitive. Of course, it is Sera thought. It was likely a direct line to Elijah fucking Kamski. 

“Also,” Sera said very deliberately, “Don’t let this trace back to me. I think it’s important.” 

Hank nodded in acknowledgment. As Sera watched Hank shove the note into his pocket, Connor stood to alert, his LED flashing. 

“Hank, we have a situation,” Connor said just as Hanks phone started to ring. He precariously answered. 

“Yeah?” He said. Whoever was on the other end must have said something shocking, because Hank was immediately heading for the front door, Connor is toe. 

“Holy shit. We’ll be there in 30 minutes. Keep me updated” Hank said in the authoritative tone she’d never heard from him. Before leaving, he turned to Sera who stood stupefied at the counter. 

“Thanks for your time Miss Page. You may want to check the news” Hank said cryptically and rushed from the apartment. Connor gave Sera one last look before closing the door behind them.


End file.
